The Walled Garden
by augiesannie
Summary: It was built with love, and nearly destroyed by grief. Its walls concealed tender memories, wicked secrets, and fierce desire. In this hidden place, two lost souls, each in some way hiding from the truth, learned about loss, love and redemption.
1. Chapter 1: Discovery

Chapter 1: Discovery

The late afternoon sun shone brightly, turning the lake's surface into shimmering gold, and glinting off the windows of the villa far in the distance.

"There! That one's done!" Maria glanced over her work one more time, before passing her sketchbook to Liesl, who lay sprawled on the picnic blanket next to her, engrossed in a book. "What do you think?"

"It's adorable, Fraulein! He'll love it. " It was only a small colored-pencil sketch, but the rusty-haired boy, his cheeks puffed out apple-red with effort as he blew on a shining trumpet, was unmistakably Kurt.

"And he earned it, too, mastering that prelude the way he did," agreed Maria.

It had been an inspired idea, if she said so herself, to offer the children small drawings in return for their accomplishments. Friedrich astride his horse, a reward for conquering his fears and learning to jump, to his father's obvious delight. Louisa on point in her new toe shoes. The little sketches were much in demand. Maria was glad she'd brought her sketchbook with her from the Abbey. She still loved singing, and playing her guitar, more than anything. But she found herself taking more and more pleasure in this newer creative outlet.

"Will you do one for me?" Liesl asked.

"I will, but Marta's next. For learning to do her own braids. A mixed blessing," Maria sighed, "I do love braiding girls' hair. They need to learn to do it themselves, and yet…"

"Did you have braids when you were a girl?"

"Indeed I did! My hair fell to my waist and I was so proud of it…too proud, really."

"Why did you cut it?"

"When I became a postulant, of course. You know that, Liesl."

"Fraulein?"

"Hm?"

"Didn't you mind – cutting your beautiful hair – and everything? Don't you miss wearing lovely clothes? And parties, and dancing, and boys…"

"Well, Liesl, for one thing, I didn't grow up like you have. The first beautiful dresses I ever owned were the ones I've made for myself here. I went to live at the Abbey when I was only twelve. The sisters are all I've ever known, my family really…it's where I've always thought I belonged. Oh, I went to school with boys, yes, but I never really stopped to consider…"

Maria paused for a moment, feeling uncomfortably as though her explanation was somehow lacking. She tried again. "And of course, I've always known it was God's will for me."

"But, Fraulein, don't you want to-"

Liesl's questions were drowned out by a wave of screams and shouts that brought Maria to her feet, running toward the commotion. The other children had been off playing a game of their own invention, something involving a tennis racket, a cricket bat, an old umbrella, and balls of various sizes. The game's rules were so complex and ever-changing that, she no longer tried to keep up with them; she limited herself to making sure that the little ones were included and not in any danger. Since they had run into a nearby wooded area and away from the lake's edge, she'd felt safe letting them out of her sight. They were in a distant corner of the von Trapp estate, in an area she hadn't been to before, and so it took her a few moments to follow the sound of their voices through the woods:

"Brigitta, why did you have to go and do that?"

"It's not my fault! You should never have…

Finally, she came upon her charges standing in a clearing. And there, standing before her was some kind of structure, a rectangular enclosure, open to the air, its walls looming almost three meters in the air. The rosy brick walls had been overtaken in spots by wild vines, and in other spots the mortar had crumbled away from between the bricks. The whole affair looked decrepit and a little gloomy, a marked contrast to the rest of the estate's orderly, elegant grounds.

"What – what is _that_?" she asked.

"It's her garden," Louisa explained, as though Maria really ought to have known.

"Her?"

"Mother's."

"Fraulein Maria." Gretl tugged at her skirt. "Brigitta hit our ball over the wall, and we haven't got another one!"

The children recommenced quarreling with each other until Maria silenced them with a sharp clap of her hands.

"Well, there's got to be a door, or a gate, isn't there? Just go on in and find the ball!"

"There is one, around the back, but it's locked," Kurt said, darkly. "The garden is strictly off limits."

Maria spied a trellis fastened to the far end of the wall. "How about we try to use that trellis like a ladder and climb over? Just long enough to retrieve your ball and then…"

Friedrich shook his head, emphatically. "No one goes in there, ever. We tried to get in there one day a few years ago, right after she… I don't think I've ever seen him that angry."

"Hm." Maria was impressed. "I thought there was no rule you children wouldn't try and break."

"Not that one," Liesl confirmed, joining them in the clearing. "The garden was – their special place - him and Mother. They used to go in there in the afternoons all the time and we were _not_ welcome." She smiled sadly.

"Oh, if there were a brand new baby, perhaps," Louisa looked to Liesl for confirmation, "Mother might bring it along, but otherwise…

"Was I ever in there?" asked Gretl.

"Yes, you were," Liesl smiled. "You too, Marta. But only when you were very new babies."

"I remember their going in here …I think," Brigitta whispered.

There was a brief, awkward pause.

Maria had discovered that the children _loved_ discussing their mother, the older ones needing badly to talk about her, and the younger ones hanging on their every word. She knew that it was somehow very significant that they'd begun to talk openly about their mother in her presence. But she hadn't quite figured out her role in these discussions. Playing it safe, she usually tried to look interested, interjecting the occasional "How wonderful!" or "Then what happened?" but biting her tongue to hold back the many questions she wanted to ask.

"Well, then, there's nothing to be done about it," she said, regretfully. "Let's ask your father for some more cricket balls – we don't have to go into the details about _why_, I think. Now, look at the time! We've got to get ready for dinner!"

The younger children ran back toward the villa, arguing how to score the lost ball, but Maria hung back for a moment, her eyes lingering on the walled garden_. Yet another chapter in the mysterious story of the Captain and his late Baroness, _she thought to herself. She sighed deeply. _I'm probably not going to understand any of it by the time I leave at the end of the summer._

She thought back to her first, disturbing encounters with the Captain. His aloof treatment of his children, and his harsh sarcasm toward her, filled her with sympathy toward her young charges and helped her through the first difficult days when they tested her patience at every turn.

By the time he returned from Vienna, Maria had already learned that things were more complicated than they appeared. The older children told her stories of a father who had romped through the house with them, who always had time for each of them, who took pride in their accomplishments. Apparently, while the children had adjusted to their loss, their father – a national hero, knighted for bravery in battle – could not.

Of course, Frau Schmidt had explained that very first night that the Captain had banished anything that reminded him of his wife – "no laughter, no music, nothing that reminds him of her." There were no pictures of the children's mother – and that is how she was always referred to, when it was absolutely necessary to do so – anywhere in the house. Only the children's conversations – never conducted in their father's hearing – kept her memory alive.

Still, Maria thought, turning toward the villa, she was proud of how the children were progressing, and she felt just the tiniest bit smug about the role she'd played in reuniting them with their father. He snapped at the children less often, and he was making a real effort to spend time with them - taking the older ones horseback riding, teaching the younger ones to swim, frequently appearing in the schoolroom to tell them a story from his years of naval service.

With her, though, he could still be irritable, barking orders at her as though she were serving on one of his ships. Even in his best moods, he'd taken to needling her constantly, a kind of low-grade teasing that made her feel self-conscious and awkward. Not once since the day he'd returned from Vienna had she seen any sign of the man who had offered such a heartfelt apology after their argument. Maria wasn't sure how a governess was supposed to be treated, _but, _she told herself, _the important thing is how he treats the children. I'll be leaving the villa in a couple of months anyway. They'll have a new mother, after all, isn't that the most important thing_?

Maria had been meeting with the Captain in his study every Saturday morning to review the children's progress. Their first meeting had been tense: he was clearly ready to pounce on her every recommendation, making Maria feel prickly and defensive. After a few weeks, though, things had seemingly improved. Although he rarely praised her, he was no longer critical of everything she did. If Maria didn't exactly look forward to his weekly inquisition, she was no longer terrified of him.

She felt as though the Captain had finally come to respect her knowledge and skills, as though she'd passed some kind of test. Maria had held her own negotiating with him over the children's clothing, their education, their leisure time activities. He was visibly more comfortable as well; during these meetings, he no longer paced the room as though it were a parade ground, choosing to laze in the big leather chair behind his desk, his body deceptively relaxed although his questions remained sharp.

She smiled, thinking back on their last exchange the previous week, after an hour's heated discussion of everything from the great German philosophers, to Brigitta's reading habits, to the merits of religious art, to the correct form of letters to teach Gretl:

_"And – Fraulein? I suppose you think I am singling you out for abuse?_

_"No, Captain, Sir. Well – actually, yes sir. I don't hear you barking quite so sharply at anyone else, sir."_

_"And do you know why that is, Fraulein?" he asked, half-smiling._

_"Because I am charged with educating your precious children?"_

_"That too," he allowed. "But mostly, because I know you can take it. Since you felt so free to comment on my performance as a father, I think it is only fair that I be allowed to return the favor. No one else in this house talks back to me the way you do, have you noticed that?_

On her way back along the lake shore, Maria paused to retrieve her sketchbook and pencils, and to fold up the blanket where she and Liesl had been lazing. The girl had left her book behind.

"Liesl," she called, "you left your book…." But the children were out of hearing by now.

Maria leafed idly through the book as she sauntered back along the lakeside. Gradually, her eyes made sense of the words on the page, and she felt her cheeks redden. Hastily, she closed the book, tucking it under her arm, and made her way back to the villa.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::**

**A/N: Thank you for reading. I don't own anything about the Sound of Music, I just love it.**


	2. Chapter 2: Appropriate

Chapter 2: Appropriate

Six long hours later, she knelt by her bed to say her prayers. Maria was exhausted from a full day of supervising schoolwork and play, capped off by an half-hour's uproar when Liesl came looking for her book.

"Your father counts on me to supervise your reading material, and if you'd like to take your case to him, you're welcome to try," Maria said firmly, knowing the girl would do no such thing.

As she did every night, Maria asked God's blessings on the sisters at Nonnberg and on everyone at the villa, with a special nod to Liesl – "the girl needs a mother, Lord, if you can do something about that, because I'm not sure a governess can give her what she needs."

And then a new prayer, one she'd just added in the last day or two. While she was proud of how things had changed for the von Trapp family, she was less satisfied with her own progress.

"Lord, help me understand your will for me. I came here hoping to prove to myself, and Reverend Mother, that I can serve you at Nonnberg. I have learned a great many things – about children, about teaching. About patience and holding my tongue. Not to mention that you created a whole very strange world out here that I barely knew existed. Anyway, Lord, I am doing what I can to prepare these children for a new mother. But I'm not sure I understand . . . your will for me. Please help me find my way back to the Abbey. It's where I belong."

With a sigh, Maria climbed into bed and turned out the light. Her thoughts went back to Liesl, and the secret the girl had shared with her only days after Maria had first arrived at the villa. "Please don't tell Father," Liesl had said, coming to Maria's room one night after the younger children were asleep. "I - I want to show you something, Fraulein, but you must promise me you will not tell him about this."

Briefly closing her eyes to pray that the item in question had not been a gift from Rolf, Maria nodded her agreement. Liesl opened her fist to reveal a gold locket, with the letter "A" inscribed on the front, and clicked it open to reveal a tiny portrait of a laughing young woman who looked just like an older Louisa. "My mother," Liesl whispered. "I stole the locket from her room the day she died. Before… before he had everything of hers carted away. And I begged the picture from my grandmother."

Their mother. At the thought of the Baroness von Trapp, Maria's mind turned to the walled garden. The garden was the first physical evidence, other than children themselves, that the Baroness had actually existed. It was as though her very memory had otherwise been erased, the family's history wiped clean.

_What was she like? What kind of woman had led a happy life with a man as difficult as the Captain, had given him seven such different and wonderful children?_ Thinking of the garden, Maria slipped out of bed and went to the window, hoping she could see – but no, the garden was out of sight, tucked into the woods beyond the far end of the lake.

Maria had lost her mother very young, and spent the next six years living with a grudging uncle and aunt who fought with each other constantly and barely acknowledged her. But at least Maria had her mother's rosary. And her uncle could be heard, on occasion, to invoke her mother's memory, even when it was used against Maria - "your mother, girl, she made a fine loaf of bread, what's wrong with you?" or "your mother was such a quiet type, girl, can't you keep still for even a moment?" Those few scraps were all Maria had of her mother, and she treasured them.

As she drifted off to sleep, she thought to herself, _These seven children are growing up surrounded by luxury. But they are living in a kind of poverty too. _

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"Good morning, Captain. Good morning, Baroness Schrader. Good morning, children." By now, it was simply understood that Maria would always be the last one at breakfast, except for Herr Detweiler, who rarely appeared until lunchtime.

The Baroness nodded a polite greeting, but the Captain merely grunted from behind his newspaper. The children greeted her enthusiastically, Liesl having apparently forgiven her for confiscating her book.

"Fraulein Maria," asked Marta, "will you do my drawing today?"

"Yes, dear, of course. You in your braids."

"I don't want a picture of me. I want one of _you_," Marta protested.

"Of me? Why on earth would you want a picture of me?" laughed Maria.

"Because Liesl told me about how beautiful you were when you were a little girl, with your long golden hair. You must have looked like a princess, Fraulein! I want a picture of you with your hair long like mine, your pink cheeks, and your beautiful blue eyes with very long eyelashes. In a sparkly pink dress, and diamond necklaces. You know! And in the picture, you could be dancing with . . . ."

Maria interrupted. "Goodness, Marta, that is _not_ exactly what I told Liesl!" She felt her cheeks turning pink, indeed, but with embarrassment. What must the other adults think she had been filling these children's minds with? She heard the rustle of a newspaper and, involuntarily, looked to the end of the table. Was the Captain _staring_ at her?

Hastily, she finished up, "… and anyway, remember what we've talked about: being beautiful on the inside is more important than the outside. Now let's all finish breakfast, it's Saturday, and you've got that birthday party in Aigen to attend, and we've simply got to get working on the puppet show."

Saturday morning. That reminded her. She glanced his way again. "Captain – will we be …"

"Will we be doing what, Fraulein?" He still looked oddly distracted.

"You asked to see me every Saturday morning with a report on the week's schoolwork," she reminded him.

"Of course." He put down the paper and addressed Baroness Schrader. "I'll just do this one thing, Elsa, and I'll be ready by nine, all right? Our appointment's not until 10, if I recall."

Maria herded the children away from the breakfast table as quickly as she could, but not before she heard him grumbling about the need to spend a beautiful day indoors in his solicitor's office. Ten minutes later, a stack of papers and books in her lap, she sat across from the Captain in his study, talking as quickly as she could, knowing that Baroness Schrader was waiting for him.

"So that's the report, Captain. An hour's reading every day. Arithmetic for the little ones and mathematics for the older. History. Some botany, and a little French."

"Why only a little?" he challenged.

"My French is not that good, sir. Oh! and that reminds me. I wanted to ask you – well, tell you, really - about this."

She dug into her pile and handed over the book Liesl had been reading yesterday. He raised an eyebrow, and Maria closed her eyes for a moment, chasing away the memory of the cover image: a buxom young girl, nearly popping out of her dress, being ogled by a muscular young swain.

Hastily, she explained, "Liesl has been reading it. As I said, my French is not that good, but it is good enough to know that they should not be reading this sort of thing."

The Captain seemed to be in no hurry at all, Baroness or no Baroness. In fact, he almost seemed to be enjoying himself. He flipped through the book for a few moments, and then looked up at her.

"In this case, Fraulein, a true appreciation for the French language would only be a hindrance. May I offer an example?"

Without waiting for her response, he cleared his throat, and then, in a tone that mixed irony with melodrama, he began to translate. " 'Her lips were like ripe plums, spilling juice everywhere, and her eyes like warm pools on a summer day. His eyes read every inch of her as though she were a poem, and he ached for his lips to follow behind. He knew that she would follow him anywhere he chose to take her, and that the night would keep their secrets.'"

It was too awful, really, to be embarrassing. Maria tried to fight off a giggle, but gave up when, much to her relief, she saw him biting back a laugh himself.

"It's just dreadful. Wherever did she get it, Fraulein?"

"From their last governess. She may only have been here for two hours, Captain, but if this is any indication, she did a great deal of damage, I must say."

"Oh, no." He waved Maria's answer away. "It wasn't that one. _She_ never even unpacked. This must have been, was it, Fraulein Nina? She was the tenth, I think. The woman had a positively unhealthy interest in romance –" he broke off, awkwardly.

"Sir?" She was puzzled.

He shook his head. "Never mind. What did you give her to read instead? I hope you steered her toward something more suitable."

"Oh, don't worry, Captain. I don't give them anything I haven't read myself first. Only, er, _suitable_ stories. Nothing immoral. No disgraced heroines. I'm going to give the older girls the Bronte sisters. Do you know them? Brooding, romantic heroes, lovely innocent young girls, full of tragic misunderstandings and broken hearts. Entirely appropriate. And I ordered the books in English, to make it a challenge. You do want the children to keep up their English, don't you? Because I know their m-"

He silenced her with a look that reminded her that Baroness von Trapp was a forbidden topic. " You read English?"

"No, but I made a deal with her, and Louisa: they will teach me as they go."

He gave an approving nod. "Why do they have to read this type of thing? Why can't they read – I don't know – history? Adventure stories?"

"They are _girls_, Captain. They want romances. It's only natural that they..."

"O-ho! Was it like that for you? Did you read romances at Liesl's age?"

"No. I was never like that. By the time I was her age, I was already living at the Abbey and…"

"And you knew, even then, that you were intended for better things?"

She flushed. "Not better, just different." _I had nowhere else to go_, she thought. _At Kurt's age, I already knew I knew that real life is not a romance story.  
_

At that moment, there was a soft knock on the door, and Baroness Schrader entered. "Georg, dear, I don't want to rush you, but do we have an appointment . . ." She smiled an apology in Maria's direction.

"Don't blame our Fraulein, Elsa. I'm afraid I've detained her." He stood, and Maria took that as her cue to exit.

"Thank you, dear," Baroness Schrader said, dismissing Maria gracefully. "I was terribly fond of my governesses growing up, having lost my mother so young."

_So she knows what it is like to grow up without a mother_, Maria thought, as she climbed upstairs to join her charges. _If the Captain marries her, she will be a good mother to his children._

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

**A/N: thank you very much for the reviews, follows and favorites. I don't own the Sound of Music, but I love it! **


	3. Chapter 3: The Garden

Chapter 3: The Garden

The children had been invited to a birthday party in the village, but the invitation had strongly suggested that governesses were neither required nor welcome at the event. So Maria ushered the seven von Trapps into the car, ignoring Franz's martyred expression as he took the wheel, and energetically waved them off. As soon as the car vanished from sight, she made her way to the gardener's shed, pleased to find Peter there.

"Peter! How are you? And your little girl?"

"Clara's doing better, Fraulein. Just yesterday, she spent a few hours out of bed." Maria and the gardener had become fast friends from her first days at the villa. She'd learned everything there was to know about his late wife, and the invalid daughter he doted on.

Peter had been another person who had challenged Maria's first impressions of the Captain. "I'd leave this minute if I didn't want to abandon those children to him," she'd fumed to the gardener one day. But Peter had surprised her, praising the Captain for paying his daughter's medical bills, for encouraging him to take time away from his gardening duties when Clara needed his attention.

"I brought you something!" she smiled, holding out a handful of cookies she'd filched from the kitchen.

"Oh, Fraulein," he grinned, "you're up to something. What is it you want from me now? Some more mint for your tea? Worms for bait? More puppet theatres to assemble?'

"I want you to tell me about the garden. The walled garden."

His face changed. "Oh, Fraulein, why do you want to trouble yourself about that? It's a long time ago, a lot of sad memories… "

Maria pushed back. "More wretched than anything else is around here? Tell me about it, please, Peter. The children told me it was their mother's garden, that she used to spend time there with him. Has it been empty since she-"

Peter nodded, sadly. "The first year or two, I tried to keep it up. Mow the grass, feed the shrubbery, that kind of thing. The Captain found me out and it was the only time in all these years I thought he was going to- well, he made it clear that I was not to go in there. He locked the gate - I have no key, and I haven't been in there since."

"What was it like?"

"Oh, Fraulein, it was lovely. Beautiful. Just like her - proper, but with a wild streak. There were some beautiful plantings in there, rare ones. They used to hide in there by the hour, the two of them." Peter shook his head. "He couldn't take his eyes off her, you know. He adored her. "

"Do you think-" she said, hesitantly, "do you think that if I asked him, he would let me take the children in there?"

He snorted. "I'm sure there's nothing left to see in there by now. And I'm betting you'd be let go for even asking. You've just gotten to the point where he's forgiven you for letting the children roam around Salzburg dressed in old drapes! Don't let yourself get pulled into this, Fraulein. Nothing good can come of it."

Maria shook her head, regretfully. "It _is_ a shame. But thank you for telling me the story. I'll look in on you again soon. And give my best to Clara!

She sauntered away from the shed, aimlessly. It would be at least a few hours until the children returned from the birthday party, and she just could not stop thinking about the garden and the mysterious Baroness von Trapp. Looking around her furtively, she broke into a sprint, headed back around the lake and toward the woods. _I'll just take a quick look at it, that's all,_ she promised herself.

A quarter-hour later, she had found the garden, and had twice walked its perimeter. The gate on the back wall was locked tight, just as Kurt had predicted. Frustrated, Maria looked up at its walls, somehow certain that the answer to a mystery lay within, a mystery she simply had to solve.

Returning to the front, her eyes fell on the trellis bolted to the wall at one end. Remembering yesterday's search for the lost cricket ball, Maria ran a hand over the trellis, pulled lightly, and then, tentatively, she began to climb, testing the trellis against her weight with every new step. She intended only to peek over the wall, to see what lay within. But when she reached the top of the trellis, without allowing herself time for second thoughts, she swung first one leg, then the other, over the top of the wall, teetered unsteadily for a moment, and then let herself drop into the garden and its secrets.

At first, she felt as though she had fallen into a jungle from one of Gretl's storybooks. There hardly seemed to be space for her among the chaotic overgrowth. Vines covered the walls and were beginning to invade the bricks, cracking them in some places, while the mortar was missing entirely in others. Ivy had overrun what appeared to be some kind of stone monument at one end, and threatened to choke small fruit trees nearby. Maria could dimly make out small beds planted all along the inside border, and even a few splashes of color within, but they were wildly overgrown with weeds. At the opposite end from the stone monument, an arbor was half collapsed. She shuddered at the sudden notion that it had crushed visitors sitting in the ruined lawn furniture that sat beneath it.

She stood for several long minutes, staring in fascinated horror at the devastation all around her. She walked around a bit, although the tall, sharp-edged grass scratched at her ankles, as though to warn her away. Surrounded on all four sides by those forbidding, dark-red walls, Maria glanced up at the hot summer sky, as if seeking reassurance that the world outside still existed, a world of light, of sound, of birds singing, of insects humming companionably. Here in the garden, there was no sign of life, only decay and despair.

Maria had seen a great deal of tragedy in her young life, and she had spent the last decade in a place where laughter was rarely heard. But this garden was the saddest place she had ever seen. She could not bear to stay very long – perhaps ten minutes – before she waded through the overgrowth and made her way to the opposite side of the garden. She let herself out, carefully closing the gate behind her.

Although her first visit to the garden was brief, it made a deep impression on Maria. For the rest of the afternoon, she found her thoughts returning to the walled garden, and the man who had built it - and whose grief and anger had destroyed it.

If the rumors swirling throughout the villa were true, he was about to announce his engagement to Baroness Schrader. Somehow, Maria could not quite reconcile those rumors with his detached, ironic demeanor, the ruined garden, and the images of the heartbroken husband described to her by Peter and Frau Schmidt.

The Captain and Baroness Schrader seemed genuinely fond of each other, but they didn't seem to spend much time together. Most days she went to social events or shopping while he worked in his study , walked the grounds, or spent time with the children. He grumbled loud enough for everyone to hear when forced to attend an evening social engagement with her.

Maria's personal experience with love and marriage didn't help her know what to think; the aunt and uncle who raised her rarely spoke a civil word to each other during the day, and the savage noises coming from their sleeping loft at night confused and frightened her. She had come to understand that in the real world, marriage had little in common with the love affairs described in the girls' now-forbidden romances, and she took from her religious education that in fact, marriage was primarily designed to create families. Smiling, Maria recalled the swaggering heroes who strode through the pages of those romance novels. Now _they_ were the kind of men who would love passionately, grieve extravagantly, tend their lovers' gardens carefully.

Still, Maria had her own high hopes for the Captain's likely engagement. No matter how he behaved with anyone else, clearly things _had_ changed between him and the children since his return from Vienna. Having been an orphan herself, Maria was thrilled to see the way that the children had grown closer to their father, and now they would have a mother again as well! And yet… Frau Schmidt had almost openly rolled her eyes at the idea of Baroness Schrader as stepmother. The housekeeper had noted in passing one day that, of course, the Baroness was past the age where she'd want children of her own. Nor, Maria had to admit, had the Baroness shown much interest in the young von Trapps. _That's where you come in_, she told herself. _You were sent here to prepare them for a new mother, and maybe helping her is part of the plan._

**_..._**

**Thank you very much for the reviews, follows and favorites. There are a lot of chapters ahead, and your feedback is what keeps me going! I don't own the Sound of Music or anything about it.**


	4. Chapter 4: the Princess

Chapter 4: The Princess

The children returned from their birthday party in time for supper with Maria, while the Captain and his guests stayed in town for the evening. Distracted by her charges' chatter about the day's events, she was able to set aside her troubling thoughts about the garden. After supper, they gathered in the schoolroom, and she settled down to begin work on Marta's sketch, while the children amused themselves playing cards or reading. Almost at once, Gretl and Brigitta began clamoring for their own drawings of their Fraulein.

"My goodness, what has gotten into you children? she laughed. "I don't think I got even a single compliment for my drawing skills in all my years of school. You children are quite spoiling me with all this praise! Can you possibly be the same children who left a frog in my pocket not even two months ago?"

"We _love_ you, Fraulein," Marta began, while Gretl crawled into Maria's lap, " …and the summer will end, and…"

Louisa picked up, "…and then you will leave. You are the best governess we've _ever _had, and…"

"Do you think Father will marry Baroness Schrader?" asked Brigitta, abruptly. The room became silent, seven pairs of eyes looking to Maria.

Maria drew a deep breath. Cautiously, she said, "why do you ask, darling?" There _was_ a great deal to be curious about when it came to the Captain's relationship with the Baroness, and it was hard for Maria to hide her own questions from the children. She reminded herself yet again that her job was to help them prepare for the next chapter in their family's life.

"Of course he's going to marry her," Friedrich scoffed. "it's perfectly obvious. Why else would he have brought her here to meet us?"

"I don't want him to get married," Gretl announced. "He's been married once, to my mother, and how can I have two mothers? "

Liesl shook her head. "No, Gretl, darling, Father should have a chance to be happy. I would not blame him if he got married again. And after all, nothing is going to bring Mother back. But - but I don't think he really loves Baroness Schrader. They don't behave like people in love..."

"Thank heaven!" exclaimed Kurt. "I wouldn't be able to stand it if they went around kissing all the time."

Pushing away a sudden, unnerving mental image of Baroness Schrader in the Captain's arms, looking disturbingly like the cover of Liesl's romance novel, Maria interrupted. "I'm sure your father will do whatever he thinks is best for you children. Marriage – well - it's serious business, children. A sacrament in the Church, remember. People get married because it's God's will for them, just like it's His will for me to … well, anyway. They get married so they can raise families. It's not like - well, like those awful romance novels you girls love. And try to remember, this is a _private _matter. It's not something we ought to be gossiping about."

"We're not gossiping," challenged Louisa. "This is our _father_. If he marries her, she'll be our _mother_! Doesn't it matter what we think?"

"I don't _want_ another mother," Gretl interjected.

"Fraulein?" asked Brigitta. "How do you know so much about why people get married when you are not going to be married yourself?

"Well, you've got a point there. There's probably a great deal I don't understand. But I do know that your father loves you very much, and that he wants what's best for you. If he decides to marry anyone, it will be because he's sure she can be a good mother to you. I think you should give the Baroness a chance. She's a guest here. Try to get to know her, to spend time with her. I don't think she's spent a lot of time around children, and-"

Friedrich interrupted with a snort, and Maria turned toward him, her voice stern. "Try to remember your golden rule, Friedrich, will you?" Her voice softened. "For me?"

He ducked his head, ashamed. "But Fraulein Maria, do you – do you think she knows how to be a mother?"

"Hm. I'll have to think about that one," Maria said hastily. "Come on, now, children. That's enough talk of marriage." She deposited Gretl on the floor and took up her sketchbook. "I've got to get started on those sketches. Brigitta, why don't you read to us from that new book of fairy tales?"

Keeping in mind Marta's request for a long-haired Fraulein, Maria set to work on the sketch, but her mind began to wander back to the puzzle of the Captain's new-found attachment to his children, the desolate ruins of his first wife's garden, and his impending engagement to Baroness Schrader. She spent long minutes lost in her thoughts, only half-attending to the sketchbook before her, barely hearing Brigitta's voice reading out loud.

So when she stopped to survey her work, Maria surprised herself with what she had created: the image of a willowy young woman, her golden hair hanging in rippling waves to her waist, her blue eyes burning beneath thick lashes, her cheeks glowing as if lit from within, her lips curved in a mysterious half-smile. The woman's arms were lifted away from her body, as though she were about to be swept into-

_This is not me! What was I thinking?_, she thought, hastily turning to a fresh page in her sketchbook – but she was not quick enough.

"Oh, Fraulein Maria, you look like a princess! How _beautiful_! Thank you SO much!" Marta was thrilled.

"No, Marta. That is not _me_, for heaven's sake. Let me try again," Maria said firmly, folding the page to hide the princess drawing and determinedly turning to a fresh page. "I'm going to draw myself just as I first arrived from the Abbey, in my rough gray dress and ridiculous hat. I may even include the frog!"

Marta began to protest, but she was conveniently interrupted by a visitor.

"What have we here?"

"Father! Father! Why are you back so early? We've been…" They crowded around him, telling him about the birthday party, the younger ones asking if he'd brought them any treats. Her visit to the garden still fresh in her mind, Maria could not quite bring herself to offer her usual cheerful greeting; instead, she stayed focused on her sketchbook.

"Liesl, I brought you that music you asked for. Brigitta, have you taken the evening paper again? Er – Fraulein Maria? Good evening. Fraulein?"

She couldn't bring herself to look at him - the man who had so dishonored his wife's memory – but she somehow felt his eyes resting on her, his presence creating an uncomfortable silence until she had to say _something_, to break the tension. It seemed rude not to look at him. "Good evening, Captain. We didn't expect you until later. The children will be going to bed soon, I assure you."

"We came back early. Herr Detweiler stayed in town, but Elsa – I mean, Baroness Schrader – she had a headache, and..."

"Father! Look! Look what Fraulein Maria made for me!"

To Maria's embarrassment, Marta had taken advantage of the momentary distraction to retrieve the princess drawing, and was enthusiastically displaying it to her father. He looked perplexed for a moment, and then, as recognition dawned across his face, he examined the drawing carefully, his eyes lingering on it long enough that she felt her cheeks grow warm.

"Very nice, Fraulein," he said, his eyes not leaving the page. 

"It's not very good, really," she protested, "and it doesn't look a bit like…" 

Marta broke in. "Father, tell Fraulein Maria to let me keep it." 

"Keep what, darling?" he asked, distractedly. 

"The drawing, Father! Can't you _order_ her to let me keep it? " 

He chuckled. "No, sweetheart, I'm afraid that Fraulein Maria is not entirely under my command. Or anyone's, really." And then the Captain handed the drawing back to Maria, his face unreadable, and turned back toward Friedrich and Louisa, who were bent over a chess board. "Nicely done, Friedrich. Louisa, how do you propose to get yourself out of this?"

And so they sat for a half-hour or more, all nine of them in a golden circle of lamplight as evening turned to night. Brigitta put her book aside in favor of conversation; laughter and jokes somehow filled the room. The windows were thrown open to the night, and Maria could hear crickets chirping and the sound of leaves rustling in the evening breeze. She abandoned the task of sketching herself, and began to draw Friedrich and Louisa at the chess board, her pencil - as though it had a will of its own - somehow straying again and again to capture their father's stern profile, the look of pride on his face.

A sudden thought crossed her mind, as though carried in by the soft evening breeze. _"I could stay right here, just like this, forever."_ It was a kind of contentment Maria had never felt. _Is this what it was like when she was alive?_

"Georg?" 

Baroness Schrader stood in the doorway, looking even more pale than usual. 

The Captain was on his feet in a moment. "Elsa? What happened to your headache? I hope we didn't' t disturb you." 

"Oh, no. I was just - well, I am feeling better. Won't you come downstairs and have a drink with me?" 

A long moment passed, while the Captain looked back to the cozy circle and then again at the Baroness. Maria could not bear to see him torn in two, so she intervened: "It's bedtime, anyhow. Come along, children."

He seemed to send a grateful look her way before taking Baroness Schrader's arm and disappearing down the hallway. 

:::::::

Late the next afternoon, Maria found herself walking along the lake, an unexpected free hour on her hands. The Captain had disappeared just after teatime, and she had encouraged the children to spend an hour with Baroness Schrader. "Play a game! Sing for her! I'm sure she's anxious to befriend you. There are seven of you and only one of her, I'm sure it can't be easy."

She felt a pang of regret, watching Gretl crawl into Baroness Schrader's lap. Maria understood: the youngest girls had been so starved for attention for so long that they were easily won over by even the smallest gesture, the same way they'd clung to her from her first day at the villa. It would take the Baroness more time to win over the older ones, _but isn't that what I want to see happen_?

She had tried to use the free time to good purpose, planning the next day's lessons and finishing a small sketch of Louisa on the tennis courts, but she couldn't focus. The next thing she knew, she found herself walking along the lake shore, away from the villa, and toward the walled garden. Somehow, after last night, she felt as though she had to see it again.

Worried she would be missed if she stayed too long, this time, Maria did not walk around the garden before climbing the trellis. _There's nothing to see back there anyway, with the gate locked tight,_ she reassured herself. She climbed up the trellis, more confident on this return visit, swung her legs over the top and dropped gently to the earth below.

And then she heard it, that sharp, unmistakable voice: "What are you doing here?"

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

**Sorry the updates are so slow – lots of business travel. I don't own the Sound of Music, but I love sharing it with my friends on Proboards and FB and I thank them for their support.**


	5. Chapter 5: Confrontation

Chapter 5: Confrontation

**:::**

"What are you doing here?"

He stood across from her, just inside the closed garden gate, his voice crackling with fury. There was no trace of the more relaxed, occasionally even charming, Captain who had begun to emerge during their weekly conversations.

"I- I- I'm so sorry, Captain. I came over the wall, you see. Well of course you see, you are right there! I didn't expect, I mean I didn't know-"

"Quiet! I did not ask you _how_ you got here, I asked you _why_ you are here? Somewhere you have no business being. How did you even…"

"The children-" Maria said weakly, immediately regretting it.

"Did they talk you into this? Because I will-"

"Oh, no, no sir, Captain, no! Please don't blame them. They don't know I'm here. They had nothing to do with it. They told me it was their mother's secret place, and about how it's off limits but-" She hung her head. "I was just…" she stopped, not sure herself how to explain it. "I was…curious."

"Curious?" he spat.

"Yes," she said, rapidly, seeking to turn aside his ire any way she could. "I'm always where I'm not supposed to be." She did her best to laugh gaily. " Why, just before I left the Abbey, I, er, _investigated_ the sisters' living quarters. I wanted to see, you know, how I would be, I mean how I _will _be living. I snuck in there one afternoon. Sister Berthe caught me and-"

"Curious about what?" He cut her off.

Maria took a deep breath, stalling for time. _The truth is, I'm not sure myself what drew me here. _ "I – ah – I was trying to learn more about her. The Baroness, I mean, their mother. The first Baroness. I thought if I saw this place, perhaps I would understand her, I would be able to help the children..."

His eyes were icy, frozen lakes of blue. "Help them? How, exactly, Fraulein, are you going to do that? Are you inhaling great gusts of the air in this _sacred_ space and gently exhaling into their nostrils as they sleep? Are the weeds and dead plants giving you some precious insights into her character? Please, Fraulein. Don't insult my intelligence with fairy tales. This is _not_ about my children."

She opened her mouth to speak, but the Captain cut her off.

"Fraulein. I am not sure I understand what you are so _curious_ about. Why, exactly, you have taken an interest in – in her memory. But I have no patience for the dreams of a love-struck governess. You have a job here. That job is to be governess to my children. It is probably better for both of us that you have only six weeks left with us. Now. Leave. Please."

Apparently, he was going to let her off the hook this time, without further lectures or the threat of dismissal. Slowly, Maria made her way across the garden, through the underbrush, to where he stood in front of the gate. He stepped aside, reflexively, to allow her to exit, backing a few steps away from her as though to keep his distance, his eyes on the ground.

But just before she pushed open the gate, her hand on the latch, Maria had a sudden memory of her first day at the villa, the way the Captain had ushered her out of the ballroom, glowering silently, obviously seeking to intimidate her with his overpowering presence. _That's how he's gotten away with it. Well, this time, I am not going to scurry away in fear. This time, I will stand my ground._ Her heart pounding, she turned to face him.

"Captain? About her. About . . . their mother. Your wife. Why is her garden off limits to the children? Why are there no pictures of her in the house? Why - why do you never even speak of her?"

His face jerked upward in surprise, his eyes blazing. "Fraulein, you forget yourself. You will not –"

She interrupted, her heart pounding, "I don't know who has it worse. The older ones miss her so much. They talk about her all the time, did you know that? The little ones don't even have memories. They are so curious. They see that everyone else has a mother, you know, and they ask endlessly about her - what she looked like, what songs she sang, her favorite flavor of jam, _anything_. But I think it's saddest for the ones in the middle. They think they remember her, you know, but their memories are fading. Brigitta and Kurt nearly came to blows the other day over her middle name."

"Stop!" he sputtered. "I order you this minute to-"

"That's why you're always hardest on Louisa, isn't it? Because Louisa looks like her mother, isn't that why?" Maria could not stop the words from flying out of her mouth, realizing too late that she might have given away the secret of Liesl's locket, but he appeared not to notice.

And now – she could not help it - she was shouting at him. "They are not even allowed to _mention_ her in your presence!"

"How dare you!" he seethed. His hands twitched at his sides, as though he were preparing for combat. "What gives a _governess_ the right to . ."

"That's right," she said, hotly. "A governess. Not their mother! You have left it to me, and my predecessors, to mother them, and it is not right! I came here to _teach_ your children. I did not come here to tell them where babies come from, to answer their questions about why people die, to rock them to sleep at night when they have bad dreams, to hear their hopes for the future, to reassure them that their father loves them even when he goes away."

Maria paused for a long shaky breath. "If you are not going to give them another mother, then at least let them keep what they can of the one they had. No matter how angry you are at her for leaving you. Every child deserves a mother's love, and…You – you are _choking_ her - her memory - the way this garden is choking to death!"

She was crying now, and she realized that she was crying, not only for the von Trapp children, but for her own motherless self. And there was something else, some other loss so profound she could not even name it.

Time seem to stand still as they froze, their eyes locked in silent rage. Maria's heart hammered with anger first, and then panic, as he began to move toward her, slowly, closing the distance between them in a few deliberate steps, as though she were prey to be stalked. As he came closer, his physical presence overwhelmed - _terrified - _her, and she found herself retreating until her back was pressed against the gate, the latch digging into her back. He raised an arm and she flinched -

- but then, he extended his hand, palm outward, as if to show her that he meant no harm, and placed it, carefully, precisely, on her waist. The Captain was close enough that she could hear his breathing, still rough with emotion, could feel the heat of his body, could smell a mix of wool and soap and light cologne and spices. His looming presence would haunt her dreams for days.

His eyes never left hers, and while his face was still etched with rage, his touch was unexpectedly gentle as he nudged her aside, reached for the latch, and pushed open the gate.

"Go," he said hoarsely. Maria backed away from him, her eyes riveted on his face, until he closed the gate, shutting himself in the walled garden, alone.

**:::::**

…_stupid. _ Stumbling back toward the villa, Maria berated herself. _ How could I have been so stupid! I have ruined everything! He will never trust me again._

She managed to hold back tears of rage and disappointment until she was safely in her room. _I could kick myself. I was so proud, so smug, so self-satisfied about how I had won their trust, won his trust. Why couldn't I have left things alone? And will I never learn to control my awful temper?_

She had very little time to compose herself before the dinner bell rang. Maria dined alone with the children, moving automatically through their evening routines until, at last, she left the older ones reading in their rooms.

She hesitated at the top of the stairs for a minute, while she considered hunting the Captain down and offering an apology. But something told her it would only make things worse. She did not expect him to apologize as he had the day he returned from Vienna. While he had spoken, if anything, more harshly to her this time, she deserved it.

How she wished she had never seen nor heard of the garden! _He was right: whatever hold it has on me has very little to do with my responsibilities as a governess._

Maria was not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed the next morning at breakfast, when the Captain announced that he was taking Baroness Schrader and Herr Detweiler to visit friends for the remainder of the week. Thinking back to her first night at the villa, and the way he'd announced his trip to Vienna, she was he was gratified and relieved to see that this time was different. He was not taking out his anger on his children, taking time to lift the younger ones into his arms and to speak quietly with each of the older ones before departing.

He was still angry at her, that much was certain. He did not meet her eyes, even when he commented, an edge to his voice, "I trust that your Fraulein can keep you busy and out of trouble while I am away."

**:::::**

The Captain and his guests stayed away a few days, during which Maria focused every bit of her energy on the children. She wanted to leave him no room for complaint, and she found herself pushing them harder in the schoolroom, limiting their playtime, correcting their manners and grammar. They practiced endlessly with the puppets as well. She met with surprisingly little resistance from them, and she wondered what they would think if, in some way, they understood that they were helping her atone for her own misdeeds.

On the rare occasion that she even thought of the garden, its memory was quickly eclipsed by the disturbing memory of his scorching anger - the fury in his ice-blue eyes, the rigid set of his shoulders, the steel of his fingers on her waist. Maria knew she'd been lucky to have been given another chance - and that she might not be so lucky the next time.

A few days later, on a rainy Saturday, the Captain returned to the villa with his guests. She intended to steer clear of him, but within hours, he summoned her to their weekly conference. Maria went through her notes as quickly as possible, being especially careful to tell him about her plans for puppet show. He was clearly impressed by her efforts with the children, even offering a gruff, "thank you, Fraulein."

She briefly considered apologizing for intruding into the garden, but concluded that things were better left alone. Wistfully, she wondered if the easy rapport that had developed between them would ever return. _You are leaving in a few weeks anyway,_ Maria reminded herself.

Throughout their half-hour together, she avoided his eyes, fearing the blistering anger she expected to find there. But the few times their eyes met, what she saw in the Captain's eyes was not anger, and not apology either, but something else she could not quite name.

On her way back to the schoolroom, she ran into Peter coming down the stairs. "Hello! What brings you in the house? Trying to stay dry?" she asked.

He shook his head. "The Captain asked me to hang some pictures in the schoolroom."

She sighed. "Another one of his maps?"

"No," he said, "but you'll see," he added mysteriously. "I asked him if there was an occasion and he said to ask you," he added, brandishing his hammer in her direction before taking his leave.

Her forehead wrinkling, Maria turned into the schoolroom. She saw the children crowded around a patch of wall, between two windows, a space that had formerly held a dour portrait of the Emperor. What she saw there now took her breath away.

:::::::::::::

**A/N: I'd be so happy if you took the time to leave a review! Meanwhile, thanks to my Proboards forum friends, who make me laugh every day and whose writing and fandom inspire me so much. If you want to join us, please PM me. And – disclaimer – I don't own the Sound of Music or anything about it.**


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